


Sing It Til You Make It

by proofreading_whats_that



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Hair of dog, Hangover, karaoke aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:20:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proofreading_whats_that/pseuds/proofreading_whats_that
Summary: Harry and Macy discuss the previous night's song.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	Sing It Til You Make It

**Author's Note:**

> This was proofread/betad/guided by the amazing MelanjiaParadis; many thanks to them!

He blamed Maggie.

No, that wasn’t fair. She suggested he have another drink, but it was altogether him who had ordered the sex on the beach with its  _ frou frou _ umbrella and delectable fruity taste that pushed him over the edge into the land of extreme hangover. It was his own fault. The headache that accompanied that was unrelenting. He groaned and attempted to sit up, keeling over instead, upsetting his stomach wretchedly. Harry staggered down the hall to the bathroom, barely keeping last night’s great ideas down in time. He brushed his teeth and lurched towards the kitchen.

The kitchen was empty and the house was still quiet. He pulled out the blender from under the counter, took two tylenol, and set out to concocting his famous hair of dog. Harry pressed  _ blend _ and instantly regretted it, the purr of the blender too loud for his hungover ears. There. Chunky, but sort-of blended. It would have to do.

The first chew was disgusting. The second slowly cleared his haze. Horror filled his gut along with his nausea. 

His groan was drawn out when he thought back to just what had transpired the night before. Harry was never much one for karaoke, he had just suggested the Haunt, but the ladies had insisted upon a karaoke bar. As he had already agreed to spending the evening with them, there was little he could do to beg off politely. And so they were at the karaoke bar, him with a few too many drinks, and him.. on  _ stage _ . He cursed himself and turned, the sunlight hitting his eyes, torturing them like he were some kind of vampire.

Oh gods, he had  _ sung. _ He had got up there on that stupid stage and had opened his mouth. Maggie’s suggestion he sing, sure, but he got up there and he picked the music and he belted it out for the world to hear. For  _ Macy _ to hear. He thought back to the song - “The Longest Time” and he felt even more nauseous than he had started with.  _ What have I done? _

There was no denying that it had been sung  _ to Macy. _ He couldn’t just escape and say that it was just a flight of fancy that made him choose that song. He had sung the whole thing looking and gesturing at Macy. There was  _ no _ getting out of this, ever.

Macy entered the kitchen as his panic rose. She looked worse for the wear but still beautiful. “Good morning, Macy,” he said uncomfortably and went slack jawed.

\-----

“Good morning, Harry,” Macy said cautiously. She, too, was suffering the effects of last night’s karaoke. She distinctly remembered the heartfelt serenade. The gesturing, the pleading eyes. It left a strange pit in her stomach. She had long harbored feelings for him, and to know that they possibly existed opened a new course of action.

Of course, he sang it while drunk. It could - and should - be taken with a grain of salt. People say all kinds of things when they are drunk; things that they mean, that they don’t mean, and that they regret. Macy knew that she could not bring it up with her friend; there was no point and it would only cause him embarrassment. But.. still.

“Harry,” she said cautiously, as if she were going to fall through thin ice. “Do you remember anything about last night?” she asked, her voice slightly in her throat. There. Graciously giving him an out.

“Oh.. well, we had a grand time, splendid,” Harry said evasively. “Maggie sang quite well. I keep forgetting that she’s a veritable songbird,” he said, hoping that would lay the matter to rest.  _ I should have played dumb. _

“You sang too,” Macy said. “You have a unique voice,” she continued delicately. “The song you picked was lovely as well.”

“Oh, I did?” _There!_ “I don’t remember that,” Harry said. Something in him though told him to just say it. He’d been wanting to, hell, he’d got up on stage and _sang_ it last night. _Out with it._ _She knows. You’ve already told her._ “‘The Longest Time,’ I think, right? Always had a thing for Billy Joel.”

“Did you mean it?” Macy near-whispered. A thousand butterflies flew in her stomach. This moment, the moment of admission, of speech.  _ Did you mean it? Did you mean the gestures and glances? Or was it just a song?  _ She saw Harry swallow.

“With all my heart,” Harry murmured.

And nothing was ever the same.


End file.
